In A Cottage By The Sea
by RipperShipper
Summary: Being at the Mother House brings out interesting feelings for Patrick and Shelagh.


**In a Cottage by the Sea**

 **Summary:** Being at the Mother House brings up some interesting feelings for Patrick and Shelagh. Takes place during the upcoming Christmas Special! Feat: Bold Shelagh™

 **A/N:** This fic was written for Kagu for the Nonnatun Christmas Exchange!

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

The windchill on the beach nearly burned his skin, but Patrick didn't mind. It was more effective than a cold shower and frankly, that was what he'd been in search of in first place. On his way to the washroom, however, he'd run into the object of his desires and the two seconds of longing glances between them had sent him running from the premises.

In hindsight, taking the children to accompany Shelagh while she and Sister Julienne visited the Motherhouse was a terrible idea. At the time, Shelagh hadn't wanted to leave Teddy and they both thought that getting the children out of Poplar for a bit would be ideal, even if Shelagh would be busy with other matters most of the time.

Patrick hadn't even stopped to consider that if Shelagh stayed in the Motherhouse, there was absolutely no way he would be allowed to stay with her, husband or not. She'd offered to stay in the nearby motel with them, but guilt had him insisting she keep Sister Julienne company in her time of need. _Though she isn't with me in my time of need now…_ he mused regretfully. Any moment she had away from the Sisters was spent with the entire family and Patrick was getting agitated. He supposed they'd had longer dry spells than this, but they were partly on vacation and despite his moral misgivings, there was something undeniably alluring about seeing Shelagh this close to her past life and knowing what only he knew about her now after nearly five years of marriage - though he'd never tell Shelagh that.

"There you are."

"Gah!" Patrick jumped, horrified that whoever it was had somehow heard his sacrilegious thoughts over the past few moments. Fortunately (or unfortunately, he had yet to decide), it was only Shelagh. "Sorry darling, I was bit lost in thought."

"I'm sorry for startling you, dearest." Shelagh apologized, though the amusement in her eyes told him she wasn't really sorry. "The children are helping prepare tea, so I thought I might come find you." Her hand slipped easily into his and the slight warmth of her seemed to engulf him even though both their gloves.

"Are you sure leaving Tim and Angela in a kitchen is wise?" He asked, barely hiding the hitch in his voice. It took him a moment to realize they were moving as she slowly walked them down through the sand. He didn't mind at all - he would follow her anywhere - but he was curious as to why they weren't heading back towards the convent.

"I'm sure Sister Mildred will keep them in line." Shelagh replied. Patrick smirked at her undertone. Sister Mildred was rumoured to be heading back to Poplar with them and he knew Shelagh was less than keen on the idea. He didn't mind her as much. She reminded him a bit of Nurse Crane and Sister Evangelina and they could use more of that spunk.

Before long, they were standing in front of a small structure that looked a bit like several cottages smashed together. It was clearly well loved, but definitely unused for sometime.

"What's this?" he asked curiously. It was close enough to the convent that it had to be part of the property, but far enough away that it must not be of huge importance. Shelagh smiled wistfully.

"It used to be a guest house." she replied. "Postulants stayed up at the convent during their studies, but young women looking to the religious life were also welcome on the grounds. There were quite a few of us during the war…"

"You stayed here?" he asked lovingly, his mind conjuring up a picture of a plucky young nurse on the verge of the world. "What happened to it?"

"Nothing really, I suppose." Shelagh shrugged, pulling him closer to the entrance. "Sister Julienne has told you about Nonnatus' diminishing numbers. I assume it is no longer needed."

His arm pulled her close at the guilt lacing her last statement. What an arse he'd been; fantasizing about her while she battled her demons.

They took in the rooms in silence. It was actually quite charming, despite what age had done to the exterior of the place. Once more, he let Shelagh's slight pull on his hand lead him around until they stopped in one of the open doorways.

"This was my room." she breathed quietly. There was nothing personal left about it to say it was hers, but it suited her. It was smaller than some of the other rooms they'd passed, but the window looked out to the sea and it was the closest room to the small prayer area. Shelagh pulled him gently into the room and shut the door.

"Darling, are you alright?" he asked, though he barely got his sentence out before Shelagh had her finger over his lips.

"Hush, before I change my mind."

He didn't have time to ask about what before her mouth eagerly covered his. His body sung, he'd been dying for this all day. He opened his eyes a fraction to clock the location of the bed when he saw the simple cross on the wall…

"Shelagh, stop, we shouldn't." he gently pried her off him and he could feel his blood protesting against his brain.

"Patrick-"

"This place is important to you and I won't defile it,"

"Patrick-"

"The Sisters here already don't think very highly of me for being with you,"

" _Patrick!_ " she emphasized. He stopped. "I was never a Sister in these walls. Actually," she paused, blushing, "I spent a great deal of time thinking about...other things...in this room."

"Shelagh!" he gasped teasingly.

"It was a very complex decision to join the order, Patrick, I had to consider what I would be giving up." she defended herself as she stepped closer to him and her fingers moved to the buttons of his coat. "I brought you here because I want to do this," His coat fell to the floor. "I want to reconcile the past," His jumper followed. "and I want you to stop feeling guilty for looking at me the way you were looking at me earlier just because we're here." Her fingers slid beneath the fabric of his shirt and he shivered.

"And what way is that, Mrs. Turner?" he asked lowly, loving how her eyes darkened as she pulled him closer to the small bed.

"The way you're looking at me now." she spoke confidently as her hands slid down to the fastening on his trousers.

They were going to be late for tea.


End file.
